The Basement Couch - Tumblr Posts

When he did something that profoundly upset me, he'd know, and he would force me to come to bed. Usually he'd have sex with me, and I'd lay there.

I would lay there, seething, until I knew he was asleep. Then I'd slip out of bed and go to sleep on the couch in the basement.

Only then I'd exhale. I'd message someone I wasn't supposed to. I'd stretch out and release my muscles. I'd masturbate to a fantasy in my head that didn't include him. I would feel safe knowing I'd hear the floorboards creek if he got up.

It was a false sense of security, but it was a breath that kept me from drowning.